Life Through Our Eyes
by Apocalyptic Lore
Summary: Companion to The Eleventh Hour. Follows the characters and plotholes of TEH. Various lengths, ratings, genres.
1. Unwanted Climax

A/N: Well, here it is~! The companion to the Eleventh Hour- why? I was bored, and the story had some plot holes. While reading that isn't entirely necessary, it is highly recommended, or you may get completely lost.

As mentioned in one of the chapters of TEH, this will not get updated as often as my other fics, as it mostly made up of oneshots and short stories. Also, this will vary in genre and rating, as well as characters. Be sure to let me know if you all want anything in particular- you know, a lot of angst, crack, smut, etc. I'll be keeping this at T rating, for now. That could change.

Lastly, this is the first oneshot, based upon the very little information given at the beginning paragraphs of TEH. This turned out much more angst-filled than intended, and may be a bit OOC.

* * *

The Vargas estate- an abode of the utmost glory, with architecture of olden Victorian times, though its outlay and blueprints consisted of a much more modernized style. A two-level mansion of magnificence, the outer design was composed of many of the latest styles and whatnot. A long, winding sidewalk lead up to the estate, made up of a shimmering, dark silver stone of some sort, curving through neatly-trimmed fields of deep emerald grass. Two vehicles, a crimson red car and a black convertible, were nestled peacefully along the curb- a double-feature of two vehicles that were unbelievably rare in their poor town. Indeed, most of the civilians traveled around either on foot or, if they had enough money, on bicycle. Regardless, the Vargas family owned two, and though they were used seldom, they had proven to be most useful in traveling outside of a five-mile radius.

Inside, things weren't all that different in variety- still as modern and "homey" as the exterior. The family belonging to such a wealthy abode, however, was far different than most of you out there would anticipate. For all of the money and wealth they had been allowed by God- at least, that's what the head of the family and his wife thought-, the Vargas' weren't by any means greedy with it, nor did they flaunt around town wearing the finest in gems and accessories. In fact, the youngest Vargas boy and his parents considered the commoners to be a body of individuals perhaps more pure in personality and bravery than themselves, for they had been through worse experiences than the wealthy could ever hope to know. However, when considering the remainder of the prosperous living in that region of Italia, not to mention the elder Vargas child, most of the poorer people were treated no better than a pawn, if even that. 'Twas a sad thought, pathetic in more ways than one, but that had been the true stability of time for many years prior.

First, there had been the elder Vargas', the head of the only remaining members of their family- who happened to be his own children- and his wife. Their names were Nevio and Antonella Vargas; Antonella had originally belonged to the Moretti family before her departure deeper into the heart of Italy on business, upon which she had met Nevio and quickly fallen for him. Having both come from rich families, they moved to a large mansion further south of their former Italian location and resided in the manor that would serve as their burial site. But that's a long story that will be touched upon later.

They married at the happy age of twenty-six (Nevio) and twenty five (Antonella), and waited a good year or so before attempting to have children. Upon their first time trying for offspring, they conceived Lovino Vargas, a young boy born about a month prematurely for unknown reasons. They raised him incredibly strictly, a bit fearful for their child's life, and, although the staff working at the mansion insisted that they not, they continued to do so until their deaths. As he was their first child, it's obvious as to why they would be so paranoid- they were merely thankful that the child had been born without any sort of complications, let alone that he was given close to no freedom for the majority of his adolescent years.

Lovino Vargas grew up with a naturally-pessimistic attitude, and always seemed to have rotten luck- but, really, who could blame him after so much protection had been placed upon his shoulders? Due to reasons unknown to all but himself, he also adopted a strong dislike for commoners. Although he admitted that they were necessary for carrying out daily tasks, such as grocery shopping and the like, he acknowledged them very seldom until he was about fifteen, at which he began adapting to their company, though still preferred to avoid them- particularly the male commoners.

But, in all reality, many of the common civilians suspected that Lovino's primary reason for irritation was his younger brother, Feliciano.

Feliciano Vargas was born about three years after his brother, and was born the exact day that he had been expected to arrive. Actually acquiring him had been much more difficult than with Lovino, however, as it took Antonella several months before she managed to become pregnant with her second child, at which point she had a miscarriage and tried yet again. The sixth time, Feliciano had been born.

Greatly contrasting his brother, Feliciano was a happy, lucky young boy, and found commoners fascinating. In fact, the majority of his friends as a child had been the poor offspring of a pottery maker, or a chef of some sort. Needless to say, Lovino began to loathe having his brother around him all the time, yet Feliciano didn't seem to understand that his older sibling disliked him so, and followed the older Vargas boy around everywhere he went. Feliciano was a bit slower than others, and horrible at reading the atmosphere. Oh, he was perfectly capable- he was just entirely too naïve about the perils of the real world, considering his parents didn't make the overprotective mistake they had made with their firstborn.

Yet, sadly, even this commoner-considerate family couldn't hope to be entirely protected from the angered souls of the rebellious gangs around the poor slum.

********

"Ve~!" Feliciano, at the ripe age of fifteen, sat at the kitchen table with his brother, sipping from a mug of warm, frothy tea. "Mom and Dad sure have been gone for a while!"

"They went to get groceries, remember?" Lovino retorted, frowning all the while- though, really, he never seemed to smile much in those years. He was now officially considered a man, at eighteen years of age, and it oftentimes appeared to get him down. "Hurry up and finish eating- I want to go out for a while too!"

"Why do I have to come along?"

"Because Mother won't let me leave the house without an escort, remember? She's paranoid. I don't want those stuck-up housekeepers going with me, and, _sadly_, you're the next best thing."

Feliciano said nothing, but instead continued to munch on his over-easy egg, lost in his own simplistic thoughts. Lovino could be so grumpy sometimes… particularly in the morning hours. It was a wonder he didn't always have steam blowing out of his nostrils… Heh, Lovino's nostrils always flared when he was really mad. The thought of something so ridiculous graced a smile to Feliciano's face, and he polished off his egg with a wide, everlasting grin. "Alright~! Let's go!"

Lovino nodded curtly and rose from his spot on the chair, pushing it under the table before proceeding out the door, shopping sack in hand and pistol placed in his belt, with Feliciano shadowing closely behind. "Alright, Feli, first we're going to the-"

"Ve! I wanna go buy some pasta!" Feliciano exclaimed, bounding forward ahead of his older brother.

"W-Wait, Feliciano! We're in the middle of the crossfire, remember?" Lovino shouted in a hushed tone, grabbing his brother by the back of the shirt. Unfortunately, he spoke the truth- the commoners and the aristocrats were in the midst of a miniature civil war, and shots were fired at random from either side on irregular occasion. One had to be most cautious whilst trekking around town dressed like a noble. "Besides, it's morning, we don't need pasta."

"Aw~! I wanted some Rotini with alfredo sauce!" Feliciano complained, whining rather loudly still.

"I said shut it, Feli!" Now Lovino was on the verge of yelling, amber eyes shifting left and right in unease. "I don't need you getting shot down by a-"

An echoing explosion reached the ears of Lovino, rattling virtually every last bone in his body. He blinked once, twice, before his surroundings became engulfed in smoke, and a vivid, deathly orange flicker of flame struck out from a building, soon followed by many more in a detonation of crimson and blackish smoke. _A bomb!_ Reacting on purely impulse, the elder Vargas boy lunged backwards, clutching his brother's shirt for dear life, as well as to protect his younger sibling from the building's bomb. They both toppled to the ground, flames raining from the heavens above as the building slowly began to crumble, bricks and rubble tumbling down upon their lithe forms. "Come on, Feli!" he shouted, snatching his brother by the wrist and urging him to follow. Lovino withdrew his pistol and did the thing his family was known for doing best- fled.

Smoke continued to drift along the horizon, fogging up the atmosphere with its gray mist of death and estrangement. "Quickly, into the building over there!" he continued to shout, now in regular tones, and ran swiftly with his brother into the nearest stall, where they would await the clearing of the smoke. Unfortunately, it was pretty safe to assume that the terroristic being who had planted the explosive was of nobility- after all, what broke commoner would have enough to pay for such an item?

"Alright, Feli, let's go… Stay close to me." Needless to say, Lovino, though he despised his brother with a burning passion, still felt it was his responsibility to take after his younger sibling as though he loved the teenager. Which most certainly wasn't the case- or, at least, he would never admit it. "Looks like the smoke's clearing up…"

Indeed, the thick blanket of smoke slowly began to dissipate before their eyes, revealing a group of deeply alarmed commoners, each exchanging worried glances with one another. "I can't believe this!" one of them shouted, tears streaming her face. "My shop! What're we going to do? My family…"

"And all of this after what happened to those nobles!" another murmured, shaking his head in dismay.

"Wait…" Lovino interrupted, approaching the commoner who had spoken last with a hand cautiously upon the gun. "What nobles?"

"Oh, e-excuse me, mister Vargas… M-My mistake…" The man took a few reluctant steps back, hands up in the air in defense. "I'm sorry, but… Their bodies were found at the end of the street."

"Their… their-" Lovino collapsed to the ground, eyes wide as melons in utter denial. "They've… You mean… Oh my God…" Shoving his brother aside, the elder Vargas brother rose from his spot and stumbled forward, running as fast as humanly possible in the direction of his parents' supposed death site.

And Lovino Vargas would find their bodies lying next to each other, mangled and bloody.

********

"Ve…" Feliciano commented a day or so after the funeral, approaching his brother with a sad smile. "Looks like you're the new head of the family now, huh?"

"Shut up!" Lovino snapped, whirling around to face his brother with flushed, tear-streaked cheeks. "Damned commoners… Damned street fights! Nobody had died up until this point! Why… Why did it have to be them?"

"Maybe now the street fighting will end." Feliciano placed a firm hand upon his brother's shoulder, urging him to follow. "Come on, Lovi. Let's go back to the house."

Lovino merely shook his head, wiping his tears embarrassedly. "In a minute." Perhaps he needed to resort his preferences… Perhaps it was the nobility that had torn his family apart, not the commoners. Though he still despised commoners, in all of their filth, perhaps there was a renewed hatred towards his own kind- aristocratic, stuck up, proud… All traits of himself. It was shameful, really.

Or… was there a chance that nobody In particular was to blame for this? Slowly, such ideas began to grace his mind, providing a new insight to what truly mattered. Lovino glanced back at his brother and nodded once more, rising and following Feliciano back to the manor to take care of business.

War is a murderer- one that can never be caught, nor can it be contained. Neither side is to blame, all the while having no one to blame but themselves.

Life itself seemed contradictory anymore.

* * *

A/N: Alright, I guarantee the rest shouldn't be this depressing and angsty. I apologize if this was a bit OOC…I have trouble with Italian angst sometimes. Eh…

Here's a little look at what's coming:

Next: A Progressive Thing, Part 1 (the story of Lovino and Antonio, and what _really_ happened- this will likely span out for a few chapters, but each chapter will be uploaded about every other update)

After that: How Ludwig really got kicked out of the army… (currently awaiting title)

And After That: A Progressive Thing, Part 2

Lemme know what else you all want!

**Review, please? :D**


	2. A Progressive Thing, Part 1

"I'm going out for a while, Feli," Lovino called down the hall, grabbing a jacket from the coat rack beside the double front doors. "Need me to pick up anything while I'm out?"

"Ve, I'm almost out of toothpaste!" the younger Vargas replied, grinning from ear to ear as he noisily slurped down a bowl of spaghetti. "And I wanted some lemons for cooking!"

"No can do, remember? The main produce stall is still closed, as far as I know. Anyway, I'll be back. Don't burn down the kitchen… again…" Cringing a bit at the previous thoughts, Lovino slid the jacket over his shoulders and proceeded out into the chilly autumn weather beyond. A little sneeze erupted from within, implying the coming of cold season.

A mosaic of startling crimsons, golds, and rusts wafted along the air surrounding him, as though the earth had been reborn into something anew altogether. It was this reason and many more that Lovino enjoyed autumn- the weather wasn't overbearingly hot or cold, nor was it humid. It was also harvest season, which gave him and his brother all the more reason to desire a fruit and vegetables stand around their little town. The previous owner of the produce stall had moved out about three weeks ago due to financial issues, and no family or man had come to claim the shop for more naturally-grown food. Oh, how Lovino craved a nice, ripe tomato… with scarlet skin along its outer edge, and succulent tang of juices within… Why, the elder Vargas salivated at the mere thought of biting right into a large tomato; but, alas, it seemed his dreams would have to wait.

"Ah, hello!" shouted an elderly woman, beckoning the aristocrat over with a swift wave of the hand. "Might I help you with anything?"

"Let's see…" Lovino gazed up, taking into account the stall at which he had just stopped in front of- jewelry. "Sorry, ma'am, nothing today. Thank you anyway." Oh, it sickened him, how kindly he had to be around these commoners- they were nothing more than filth compared to their rich kind, and it made him feel almost contaminated to even speak to them. Of course, the women weren't so bad- thus the reason why he had conversed with this elderly lady many times- but the men around town were all cruel-hearted, wily bastards, which had been proven many times to Lovino through means of childhood mocking and newly found grudges and brawls. "Is Abree here today?"

"Yes, she's in the back. Abree?" The older woman turned her attention to the back room, where a young woman, about a year younger than Lovino, approached with a dirty dish in hand.

"Yes, mom?"

"Lovino's here. He wanted to talk to you."

"O-Oh, okay, just a sec!" Abree sighed, shaking her head as she sat down the plate and approached the front bar. "Hey, Lovino. What do ya want?"

"Hey." Abree was, strangely, the only commoner companion he had ever made, and probably would ever make, so he often came by to discuss various matters with her. Sure, the difference in status made it incredibly uncomfortable at times- not to mention Abree was quite violent when she didn't want to be visited- but the two managed to make small talk occasionally. Lovino clutched the basket in his hand a bit tighter as the wind began to pick up again, chilling his face a bit in the process. "So, anything new going on around town that I need to know about?"

"Hmm… Well, you can't seem to find a hobby, if that's what you mean." At Lovino's irked look, she grinned, revealing straight teeth, though they weren't by any means perfectly white. "Kidding, kidding… Oh! There's a new family in town! They've begun the produce growing again!"

"What? Really?" Lovino inquired, eyes wide in awe and relief. No longer would he be forced to go through this wretched life without his beloved tomatoes! "How? Are there any fruits and vegetables ready for buying yet?"

"Oh, calm down! Honestly, I've never seen a man get so worked up over a couple tomatoes… Yeah, they came down here from Spain after their business crashed. They've brought a few foods with them, though, so there may be some tomatoes included."

Lovino nodded, turning a bit in enthusiasm. "I'll be heading down there, I guess. Hey, Abree… They wouldn't happen to have any attractive family members… you know, around our age…?"

"What, am I not good enough for you? Yeah, they do have one. A real looker…"

Lovino was gone in a heartbeat.

* * *

_Oh, great, I forgot about the chance of rain. _Lovino sighed, running hastily down the street with a bag of various groceries in hand. Indeed, from above, a shower of pelting rain came pouring down upon the poor noble's head, drenching him to the bone in a shivering downpour. _I'll catch a cold at this rate. That damned produce stall had better be open after all of this! Why does it have to be the shop at the end of the street?!_ A flash of lightning split the sky, releasing an empowered crackle of thunder as a couple of fruit and vegetable stands came into view. _There! _Sure enough, as he neared the stand, he came across a stand of tomatoes- perfectly ripe in every way imaginable. Oh, he could just taste those luscious crimson fruits, sliding into his mouth and setting his taste buds ablaze…

This, however, is Lovino Vargas, a man known for his stroke of bad luck. And, of course, his foot just had to come into contact with that puddle in the road and cause him to slip, toppling over the tomato stand in the process.

_Oh, crap!_ he thought, swearing a string of curses in his head as he hurriedly collected each of the red fruits into his arms. _I hope I'm not forced to buy all of them. Of course, I may have done that anyway, but now some of them are bruised! Oh, fuck it all!_

"Hey! Is someone out there?" shouted an alarmed man's voice. Lovino rose from his crouched spot on the ground and unexpectedly met the interested gaze of another man, a few years older than he. The other man beheld a straight facial expression, and his eyes- a vivid emerald green- gleamed with a curiosity identical to that of a deprived child. His face, as this was all Lovino could see of the man in the foggy mist of rain, was quite tan, with short, mildly curly locks of deep mocha brown atop his head, implying that this man belonged to the Spanish family… which meant he owned the shop as well… Wait, a "real looker" was how Abree had put it. Of course- she was a female, she _would _find someone like this man attractive. Oops.

However, Lovino was not so soon to judge his looks. After all, from his point of view, while the man had some good points as far as woman's preferences, he wore a rather… well, _stupid_ expression. "Y-Yeah, what do you want?"

"Oh, are you buying all of the tomatoes?" the Spaniard questioned, genuinely curious as a bright smile graced his face. "Ah, good to know someone else around here loves tomatoes as much as I do. Aren't they great? So juicy…" He held out a hand, friendly grin still glued to his face. "_Me llamo Antonio Fernandez Carriedo_. _¿Y tú?_"

"Lovino Vargas, head of the sole noble family in this region of Italia. Don't get too confident. How much are the tomatoes?"

"Oh, they're-" Lovino shot backwards with a prompt sneeze, shivering a bit. Antonio cocked his head to the side, resembling a puppy- _an oblivious puppy, _Lovino noted- before allowing his smile to fade a bit. "You catching a cold? It is awfully rainy out… Wanna come inside for a while? At least, until the rain cools down…"

"No, bastard! I'm perfectly capable of getting back home safely. Now how much are the damned tomatoes?!"

"Well, until we fully open, they're… E-Er, go ahead and take them. I'm sure the family won't mind. Nice meeting you, Lovi~!"

"D-Don't call me that!" the elder Vargas spluttered, face flushing a deep red from the chilly weather, his oncoming illness, and the embarrassing nickname. "You don't even know me! Besides, I'm nobility! You have no right to call me something other than my proper name!"

"Aw, come on, Lovi! Don't be a stick in the mud!" Antonio chuckled a bit before earning a hard shove back into the shop by an utterly irritated aristocrat. "Fine, fine. See you around, I guess! Bye~!"

"Good riddance!" Lovino snapped, hazel eyes narrowed in anger as he trotted away in a huff. _The nerve of that man!_ _Does he have any idea who he's talking to? Probably not- he didn't look too bright. I swear, if that nuisance becomes the new owner of the produce shop, I'll drive myself nuts! What a bastard! It's horrible to even consider-_ Another sneeze. _-that he likes tomatoes as much as I do. That's not possible- not a bizarre man like him! _Oh, how it angered him deeply, to even reflect on the factual reality that had set in- from that moment on, until Antonio went bankrupt, he would be buying every glorious tomato from the hands of that bastard.

As he continued back down the path to his house, the winds proceeded in their whiplashing strikes, nearly causing Lovino to fall over in the process. The veil of abysmal dark that lingered above seemed to darken even more so as another clap of thunder launched a tremor upon the world below. _Jeez, this is one hell of a storm…_ The elder Vargas was forced to clench his eyes tightly as another gust of wind pelted him with a shower of rain droplets, soaking his flushed cheeks to the bone and prompting another shiver to erupt from within his body as goose bumps continued to rise along his skin. _Damn it… Guess I'll need to take a detour… or maybe rest until the storm calms._

He stole one final gaze down at the tomatoes, nestled peacefully in his shopping bag, though getting utterly drenched, much similar in this respect to their owner. A slight sigh passed Lovino's lips, coughing a dry cough into the crook of his elbow and nearly dropping the tomatoes all the while. _Come to think of it, I never _did_ get Feli his lemons… Oh, screw lemons! I just need to get-_ Another fit of coughing erupted from his chest, racking his body with each painful motion. _And to top it off, I'm catching a cold!_ He was about to take another step forward as his cough ceased, though found that the everlasting rain had… well, ended. Or, perhaps not, for as he paid much closer attention to his surroundings, the droplets of water were, indeed, still plummeting rapidly from the heavens above. It seemed as though only his body remained dry, and upon gazing up, Lovino found himself below a cheap black umbrella, held above his head by a tanned hand.

"Need help, Lovi?" Antonio asked sincerely, still smiling that smile that Lovino desperately wanted to tear off. The noble narrowed his eyes in frustration, though said nothing and continued to walk, aggravation escalating exceptionally high as the blasted Spaniard followed in close pursuit behind him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lovino demanded, arms folded over his lanky chest and a pout worn upon his face. Thankfully, the manor was coming into view past the thick blanket of fog, and the Spanish bastard would (hopefully) leave him be.

Antonio merely ducked his head under the umbrella as well, breaking past the little ten-foot space barrier that Lovino always seemed to carry with him. "Keeping your cold from getting any worse. You're so ungrateful…" Though, in all actuality, his voice sounded neither pained nor angered. His words were a bit cruel, but his intentions were light-hearted.

"Yeah, alright, I'm home now. I suggest you do the same." And, with those final words of utter dislike, Lovino slammed the gate behind him and dashed up to the front door, sneezing once into his sleeve before opening the door and disappearing from the Spaniard's view. Antonio continued to stand at the gate, gazing in awe at the magnificent home before him. _Lovino… lives _here_? Guess he wasn't joking about the nobility thing._ Shrugging his shoulders, the man blinked his emerald eyes a few times, shaking the droplets of rainwater from deep mocha lashes, and turned away, whistling a little tune to himself whilst returning on the path to his own abode.

Lovino, on the other hand, was all but ballistic inside. Feliciano was busy asleep on the couch, dreaming about Lord-know-what, while his older sibling unpacked the tomatoes and whatnot from the bag, washing his hands before handling the food. _Who does that bastard think he is? I'm not some little girl- I don't need anyone to hold an umbrella above my head! And talking to me like we're equals! It's disgusting…_ Now, most of you would think that Lovino was just overreacting, but for his case, this was relatively normal. _I swear, if I ever see that man again-!_

Oh, things were not going to work out well.

Grabbing a towel from the kitchen drawer, he proceeded to dry his hair off, as well as pop a few cold pills down his throat, before placing the tomatoes in a bin beside the refrigerator, leaving a few out to chop up for dinner. _Calling me that stupid nickname, too! Not like I'd ever call him "Toni" or anything! Sure, I call Feliciano "Feli" sometimes, but he's my freakin' brother! I have a right, unlike that lowly newcomer. I have a status to uphold, and he'd better respect it!_

But, alas, in all of his frantic cooking and chopping, Lovino missed the tomato and cut his finger, a bead of blood dripping from its stinging threshold. "Damn!" he hissed, rinsing off his bloody finger under the faucet. And, on top of it all, the jerk was responsible for distracting him to the point of cutting himself! The nerve of some people…

Wrapping his finger up with a little bandage, the elder Vargas brother continued his chopping, placing the diced tomatoes into a bowl with a few other seasonings and tossing them together with a large wooden fork.

"Ve~!" exclaimed a cheery voice from the other room. Feliciano rushed forward, tackling his brother in happiness. "You're actually cooking! And you have tomatoes!"

"G-Get the hell off of me!" Lovino snapped, shoving his brother away in haste.

"Then that means…" Feliciano's face lit up, a wide smile spreading across his facial features. "The produce stall is open again!"

"For what it's worth…" the older sibling murmured, frowning at the thought of spending the remainder of his years buying fruit and vegetables from that son of a-

"Let's eat~!" And, with those final words, Feliciano snatched a fork from the countertop and scooped himself a large plate of the seasoned tomato dish. Lovino merely grunted, nibbling on an actual, whole tomato in thought. He'd have to come up with some way to get back at the Spaniard, however that may be. Nobody blatantly insulted Lovino Vargas and hoped to get off clean.

It was on, and Lovino refused to be beaten.

* * *

A/N: …And, yet, they end up together? We'll see, I suppose…

Next up:

(Still untitled)- How Ludwig got kicked out of the army

A Progressive Thing- Part 2

A bit more on Matthew's divorce situation?

**R&R~!**


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